


Acid Fetish Toy

by TimmyJaybird



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Teen Titans - All Media Types
Genre: Anal, Blowjobs, Dirty Talk, Drugging, Implied - JayDick, Joker says "daddy" probably one too many times, M/M, Masturbation, Mutilation, Rimming, Violence, brief moments of sexual harrassment, disturbing imagery, self blood play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-04-03 02:16:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4082842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimmyJaybird/pseuds/TimmyJaybird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are few things more terrifying then waking up, alone, strapped to a table with a grinning Joker staring you down.<br/>Tim is about to experience one- and it may simply be himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Acid Fetish Toy

**Author's Note:**

> Got the idea for this today after one too many rounds of Angelspit's "Vena Cava" (hence the title!) Tagging it was...an adventure. I've written far darker, but it's been quite some time, so.

Tim’s other senses took over before he even thought to open his eyes.

He could smell latex, chemicals- a cocktail of them. Too many. Felt the restraints around his legs, his arms, even his torso. Felt the cold steel beneath his body, the air on his face. _Exposed_. His mask was gone. He could taste copper, a busted lip or bitten tongue, he wasn’t sure.

And he could hear, hear the tapping of metal on metal, the click of a tongue.

“I know you’re _a-wake_ , birdboy.” Tim sucked on his teeth, opened his eyes finally, stared up at the flickering yellow lights lining the ceiling. Old. _Grimy_. He turned his head, and there he was, one of the last things Tim had remembered, sitting in a wheeled chair with his legs crossed, simply _staring at him_.

The Joker.

Tim felt his lip twitching. Didn’t speak. He pulled at his restraints, felt the old leather digging into the tears of his suit- for a moment wondered what sort of shape he was in- and the Joker laughed.

“Don’t worry my _boy_. You’re secure. Wouldn’t want my patient to, ah, squirm too much during the procedure.” The Joker pushed himself up, and Tim noticed his typical purple jacket was gone. In fact, most of the suit was. His button down was half open, giving glimpses of an obscenely pale chest, lines of scars like a road map. Replacing the rest of the suit, he had a long, dingy white jacket on, yellowed around the collar, stained with pinks and reds and rusts that Tim didn’t need to ask about.

“I’m not playing doctor with you,” Tim forced out. His mouth felt strange. Cry, cotton like. He licked his lips, brought a sting to his nerves. Yes, busted lip. That was the cause of the copper taste.

The Joker laughed again, slowly rolling up his sleeves, those long, nimble fingers spider-like. Terrifying.

“I’m, ah, afraid you don’t get a choice, _pretty boy_.” He walked over, and Tim could see a scalple in one hand- the metal on metal, he must have been tapping it on something. He tapped the flat of it right against Tim’s forehead. “You see, you’re, ah, in need of some serious help, my boy.”

“Am I now?” Tim felt his heart racing, thudding against his ribs. Trying to remember how he had gotten here, to figure out how he was going to get out.

Patrol. He remembered that much. Dick and Jason took the docks, something about Jason having heard about a big drug deal going down. No one asked how he got the information. Bruce had taken Damian for a sweep of the city, usual route. Lengthy but thorough, wouldn’t take the whole night if there were no major bumps.

That had left the odds and ends to Tim. A normal night, had he not been in town, Dick and Jason would have taken everything Bruce didn’t touch, or Stephanie would have stepped in. But Stephanie was sidelined, a nasty pull in her leg. Stuck in the cave with Oracle- or, if Tim could remember correctly, actually sent _home_ to get some sleep.

Tim hadn’t been alone, though. He hadn’t come back to Gotham alone. Kon had come with him, at the request of the _family_. Everyone seemed eager to get to see more of Tim’s boyfriend, at any chance given. Even Bruce had given the okay.

The Joker leaned over Tim, toying with a tear in the chest of his suit. “Don’t make these like they used to,” he mused, before his scalpel was there, tracing the line of the tear. Blood welled up along the line, a shallow scarlet gash, and Tim hissed.

Kon had been there. That meant someone knew whatever had happened to Tim- and god _why couldn’t he remember_. Someone was going to figure this out. But for now, he needed to get out of these restraints. _Fast_.

The Joker’s other hand was on his thigh, thumb tracing little circles into the muscle. It was almost tender, and that was more jarring then the sting of the cut in Tim’s chest.

“I’m just going to help you, boy,” he cooed, squeezing his thigh. “You’ll get a _n-ice_ little mental vacation, and I get your daddy’s attention.”

And there it was, of course. What he wanted- Bruce’s attention. Not that Tim couldn’t have guessed, but the Joker affirming it always gave him an edge.

“Puddin’, is our patient awake yet?” Tim’s eyes darted as the door to the little room opened, and Harley bounced in. She sported a coat similar to the Joker’s, over her clothing, her hair in a messy knot at the base of her neck. He could see a few faint streaks in her makeup, along her cheeks, where she had touched too long. How long had he been out? _What time was it_?

“Awake and talking, dollface,” the Joker said, turning to her and grinning, Tim was sure. He focused and shifting around, quietly, feeling what little give there was to his restraints. The ones on his arms were so tight they were digging into his wrists, past years in his suit, his missing gloves, to rub at the sensitive skin. It’d be raw soon.

Chest and torso were pointless, but the straps around his ankles- one was snug, but the other, it felt a single notch looser. Tim couldn’t get his foot through it, no way, but if he thrust his leg up just hard enough maybe-

He came back to when the Joker was leaning over him again, settling the tip of the scalpel between his eyes and twisting it. Tim felt the blade, but his skin didn’t give.

“Daddy can’t ignore if one of his little boys has a sudden lobotomy,” the Joker taunted, “Why, he’ll be chasing me for weeks! One way to get to the, ah, Bat- play rough with his _birdies_.”

Behind him, Harley was giggling, a scratching sound against Tim’s skull. The Joker leaned off him again, accepting a pair of gloves from Harley and tugging the latex on. Tim felt his heart skip a beat. Now or never, he knew-

Hopefully, not never.

Tim jerked his leg up as hard as he could, felt the restraint try to hold, before it gave, something tore, and then his leg was jerking up, just as the Joker was turning. Tim stretched his leg out as best as he could, knocking him in the side. The clown cursed, scalpel dropping onto the table as he turned, threw himself down on Tim’s pelvis and grabbed at his thigh, forcing his leg back down.

“Brat,” he hissed, “Just like your daddy. Never just wanna play by the, ah, rules.” One of his hands splayed against Tim’s pelvis, fingers pressing along the cup under his suit, his groin, and Tim choked on his breath for a brief second. Even if he couldn’t feel much of it, he felt the pressure, and frankly anytime the Joker touched _any of them_ in a way that could be even remotely sexual, it was always...jarring. To say the least.

“Har- _leeeeey_ ,” the Joker called, “Be a dear and strap him back down. You know, birdbrains, bad boys like, ah, _you_ get spankings if they keep misbehaving.” The Joker looked up at him, grinned with those too white, too sharp teeth. Tim tensed, and he swore those eyes were screaming at him to do it, daring him to _do something_ so the clown could make good on his word.

He was the strangest, strongest mix of sexual arousal and nightmare smoke, and Tim was sure this was proving it. Sure the Joker _wanted_ to bend him over and beat his ass black and blue. Sure he’d take way too much pleasure in it.

Tim shuddered, and the Joker laughed. “Daddy doesn’t discipline you boys e-nough.” As if to prove his point, his hand delved fully between Tim’s legs, squeezing. Tim had never been so thankful for wearing a cup in his life. At least, he thought that clenching in his gut was _thankfulness_. “Tell me, birdy, does Batsy babe ever bend you over his knee? Hmmm?” Another squeezed, and Tim could feel it a little, his mind beginning to buzz.

His fingers moved along the table, feeling the edge of the scalpel the Joker had dropped.

“Well come now, don’t be shy. You can, ah, _talk to me_ , dollface. I’ll _listen_.” Tim managed to pull the scalpel handle under his palm, shifting it so the blade was up, pressing along the restraint against his wrist. Carefully, he moved it, began cutting into the leather.

“Hmm, maybe not his knee then? Harley, what do you think?” He turned, watched as Harley finished re-securing Tim’s leg- tighter this time.

“I don’t know, Mistah J. You play with the Bat, not _me_. My taste isn’t so _gloomy_.” She grinned, and the Joker looked back at Tim. God, they were _both_ looking at him.

“Maybe he just bends them over the, ah, Batmobile,” the Joker added, laughing, straightening up, pulling all contact from Tim. The moment he did, he was sure he could breathe easier. Harley giggled at that, the two of them filling the room with it-

And then the restraint gave.

Tim was fast. He grabbed the scalpel in his fist and lurched out, sinking it into the Joker’s thigh. The clown’s laugh turned into a howl, and Tim shifted, reaching over to free his other wrist before either clown could move.

With his hands free, when Harley moved to grab him, he managed to punch her right in her collar bone- sent her stumbling back, into the Joker, causing them both to lose their balance. As they fell Tim worked on the strap over his torso, taking a deep breath when he pulled it away and sat up, reaching for the ones at his ankles.

He had one undone when the Joker was growling, throwing himself on him, slamming him back down against the table. Tim gasped, eyes going wide, as the clown straddled him, settled right on his thighs. He sank his hands into Tim’s hair, snapping his head down, against the table.

For a moment, everything swam.

“Fucking _brat_ ,” he cursed, “Just like your cunt of a daddy. Can’t let me have _an-y_ fun.” Tim felt the Joker rock down against him, once, and nearly bit his own tongue. The clown wasn’t overly heavy, but he felt _solid_ , keeping Tim pinned, whose head was still spinning.

Somewhere in the background he heard Harley cursing, suddenly yelling at the Joker. Tim couldn’t decipher their words. He could, however, hear his own pulse.

“Well buttercup,” the Joker whispered, leaning closer to Tim, “Sounds like your family is about to ruin all our fun. Harley and I are gonna, ah, have to cut this short. We’ll reschedule, yes? I’ll find time for a needy patient like _you_.” Before Tim could register what was happening, the Joker was closing the gap, pressing his mouth against Tim’s. The boy jerked, thrashed up, but the man only pressed down harder, the slick slide of his lips smearing lipstick along Tim’s mouth, off onto his chin.

“Be good for daddy,” the Joker breathed against his mouth, before he was hopping off the table. Tim heard their footsteps, the crash of something falling, and then nothing. _Nothing_ for a few seconds, except the sound of his blood rushing to his head, his shallow breaths.

And then the world crashed in again, and he swore the door to the room was actually torn off its hinges. He heard voices, familiar, his head beginning to clear, and then a face he _couldn’t be more thankful_ to see looking down at him.

Kon, reaching down to slip an arm under his shoulders, help him sit up. Kon with his torn tshirt and his wild eyes, and Tim wished his memories weren’t so fuzzy before he woke up.

Tim heard yelling behind them, heard Damian’s voice _I am going after them_ , and a stern _no! _from Bruce. He ignored it, leaning forward to work on the last binding on his ankle as Kon pressed a reassuring hand between his shoulder blades. He had it open as Bruce and Damian made their way into the room- Bruce actually holding his son by his hood to keep him from running after the Joker.__

__“Are you alright?” he asked, looking at Tim. He felt Bruce’s eyes, they took in every tear of the suit, every cut- inged on the wet one on his chest, before up to his face-_ _

__Where they held. Tim reached up, ran his bare fingers along the sticky mess over his mouth, the Joker’s lipstick, and swallowed the lump in his throat._ _

__“I’m alright,” he finally offered, “No real harm. Just a little banged up.” He licked his lips, the lipstick tasting almost bitter, and grimaced, before wiping the back of his hand along his mouth, some of it smearing onto the edge of his suit. “I would love to brush my teeth, though.”_ _

__Kon and Bruce kept rather grim expressions, but Tim noticed Damian’s face screwed up in disgust, obviously understanding now as he stared at the pink traces around his mouth. At least something good at come of it- he’d gotten under Damian’s skin for a minute._ _

__*_ _

__Tim sucked in a breath as Alfred cleaned the small cut on his chest. Within the Cave, the family was surrounding him, cross-banter going on regarding the evening. Tim heard Jason going on and on about how they should be back out there, looking for the clown. How they lost his trail, could’ve _gotten him_ , if they all hadn’t needed to escort Tim back to the cave._ _

__He didn’t take it personally, knew Jason was belittling him in any way- he simply knew what even mentionings of the Joker did to him. Having him active on the streets in Gotham? Well, Tim wasn’t sure how they had even managed to keep him in the cave at all. He figured it had something to do with Dick openly clutching his arm, as if keeping him down. Something to do with that fact that Dick had taken the helmet right off his head when they joined the family, about fifteen minutes prior. Had taken his jacket- for a second Tim had wondered if he was just going to strip Jason entirely in front of them._ _

__“Should’ve let the demon spawn go after him,” Jason was saying, glancing at Damian, “he can bite his ankles or something.”_ _

__Tim heard Damian go off- in his overly controlled way, and sighed, choosing instead to watch Alfred tape a bandage over the wound. “You won’t need stitches, Master Timothy,” he said with a smile._ _

__“Thank god for that,” Tim muttered, “I’m too tired.” He glanced back at the family, before nearly yelling, “You guys do whatever the hell you want, but I’m going to bed.” The conversation ceased and they all turned to him, staring for a minute._ _

__“The night’s over,” Bruce finally said, in agreement. “We’ll start fresh tomorrow. _No one_ is going back out.” Tim heard groans, saw Damian throw him a glare, but really didn’t care. He felt rather hot, and he wanted to get out of what was left of his suit and curl up in bed._ _

__Preferably, not alone._ _

__Once Alfred was done with him, he took Kon’s hand before anyone could stop either of them, and led him away, towards the elevator to take them up to the Manor. He could deal with all of them, come morning. He could properly debrief after he slept this off._ _

__His lips felt strange._ _

__Without thinking he reached up, touched them as he and Kon made their way upstairs. Kon had given him this look half way up, and Tim _knew it_. “You’re not carrying me,” he offered, flashing a smile, “I’m really not much worse for the wear. Alfred even gave me the okay. I’ll just sleep it off.” Still, Kon was watching him with worried eyes, and Tim couldn’t figure out _why_. They’d had plenty of close calls before, with their work with the Titans._ _

__Was it because it was the Joker? It was easy for Tim to forget that Kon wasn’t _from_ Gotham, that this wasn’t his city, weren’t his crazies. No matter how well he seemed to work with the family, he didn’t grow up with these streets, these villains. And Tim knew Gotham _really_ bred a different type of demon then most cities._ _

__Tim didn’t even bother turning the light on in his room. He bent down to unlace his boots, heard Kon pulling down the blanket on his bed, kicking his own shoes off. Tim pulled his boots off, began working on the lower half of his suit- the top gone, needing plenty of repairs. He had it pulled halfway down his hips when he glanced up, noticed Kon was watching him, almost apprehensively._ _

__“What?”_ _

__“Do you want me to sleep somewhere else?” Tim furrowed his brow, before shoving the rest of his suit down his legs. Kon had seen him undress a thousand times, sexual and not, and Tim felt as if he were doing it alone._ _

__“Why the hell would I want that?” Kon shrugged a shoulder, and Tim frowned. “No. I don’t. In fact I _really_ want you here.” It was true. Tim had a pension for liking to tangle up with Kon, especially after a close call. For either of them. Like he needed reassurance that Kon wasn’t about to disappear- or that _he_ wasn’t about to. “You know I do.”_ _

__Kon gave him a soft smile, the kind that Tim liked to think of as _pretty_ , and Tim was smiling back._ _

__“And everything off,” he said, hooking his fingers in his underwear, “I want skin on skin.”_ _

__That wasn’t a strange request, either. Tim _liked_ feeling every curve of muscle and bone, liked feeling like his own flesh was melting into Kon’s. It wasn’t sexual- well, not _always_ \- he just liked knowing the other boy was alive, could bleed right into his very existence._ _

__Tim crawled into the bed before Kon did, the ache in his body a lowkey throb. He settled into the pillows, on his side, facing the large windows- he’d left the curtains drawn, could see the speckles of the stars out above the trees around the manor. Kon took up the space behind him a moment later, fitting along the curve of his back perfectly, an arm going over his waist to clutch him close. Tim smiled, closed his eyes for a moment, felt Kon kiss his hair, the nape of his neck, before nuzzling his shoulder, a gentle drag of teeth._ _

__Affectionate. But Tim shivered, regardless, even if that wasn’t the goal. Without much thought, he shifted back, pressing into Kon’s body, heard his boyfriend exhale into his hair. “Sorry,” Kon whispered, lips dragging over an old scar on Tim’s shoulder. “Didn’t mean to.”_ _

__Tim nodded, a quiet _s’okay_ leaving his swollen mouth. He knew Kon wasn’t trying to start anything, knew he had the same urges Tim did- to make sure he was still there, in tact. Each scar where it had last been. Each bone unchipped._ _

__Tim exhaled, trying to sink back into himself, to fall into sleep. He should be exhausted, should feel nothing but dust in his bones. But he felt oddly _awake_ , hyper aware of Kon’s hand on his belly, fingers splayed, thumb rubbing against one newer scar. Aware of his breathing against Tim’s neck, in his hair. Aware of the muscles in his legs, pressed against Tim’s._ _

__Tim shifted, pulling away enough to roll over, onto his other side. Kon had opened his eyes, lifting his head, ready to ask what was wrong, before Tim was back, in his space, cupping his face in his hands and kissing him. Tim felt Kon go tense, before he was pulling him closer, so they were flush together, his thigh slipping between Tim’s legs._ _

__Tim gave a little squeal, grinding down against it, breaking the kiss and letting his lips simply drag along Kon’s. “Tim,” Kon breathed, fingers pressing into his back. All Tim gave him was another noise, happily rutting against his thigh, cock swelling with each slide of his hips. “You probably shouldn’t-“_ _

__“We _should_ ,” he breathed, feeling a pulse of arousal right down his spine. “Fuck we _definitely_ should.” Kon stared at him, looking confused, but Tim kissed him again and the confusion washed away, the worry._ _

__It was impossible to say no to Tim. Kon knew from experience._ _

__Tim reached between them, wrapped a hand around Kon’s cock, stroking him quickly, bringing him to full hardness so fast the meta was dizzy. Tim grinned into the kiss, his head fuzzy, tingling. Hot needles poking into his brain- a borderline headache, but almost _pleasurable_._ _

__“Eat me,” he breathed into Kon’s mouth, as his boyfriend groaned into the kiss. Tim normally worked slower then Kon, built things up. Hearing him just _demanding_ like that, it was different. But definitely not bad._ _

__Kon pulled away, Tim rolling onto his belly, face pressing into the pillows as he lifted his hips. He felt Kon’s hands run along the swell of his ass, squeeze flesh once, before he was spreading him, mouth on his hole, and Tim gave a muffled cry. He pushed back, shivered as Kon’s tongue lapped at him, woke his nerves up._ _

__Tim sucked in a breath, expected the smell of his pillow, of shampoo and his own skin, but instead was suddenly drowned in copper, the stench of it. His hands scrambled along the bed, pushing himself up, and he lifted his head, pulling away from the pillow and gasping in air through his mouth-_ _

__And tasting it now. Like his lip was open again, like he was sucking blood in straight from a wound. He nearly choked, felt Kon’s tongue pushing into him, his cock twitching, leaking. He hung his head down, moaned openly, “Fuck Kon,” before sucking on his own tongue._ _

__He was shaking, felt Kon’s blunt nails digging into his ass, heard him groaning. He wanted his nails deeper, shredding skin, wanted him to tear flesh open-_ _

__Wait, wait, _no_._ _

__Tim shook his head, couldn’t grasp at the thoughts that kept swimming into his head. Not with Kon kissing him like that, fucking him with his tongue in the _exact_ way he knew Tim liked. Not with his own cock heavy and aching. Not with the deep pulse of arousal in his belly. There were too many places for his mind to be for him to grasp _anything_ clearly._ _

__“Kon, _kon_ ,” he gasped, “Fuck, come up here. _Come here_.” His voice dropped low, a growl, and his boyfriend was pulling back, staring at Tim as the smaller boy glanced over his shoulder, before listening, crawling up the bed, settling back into the pillows. Tim grinned, straddled one of his thighs and leaned in, licking at his lips. “You’re gonna open me up,” he whispered, could just imagine Kon’s fingers inside up, opening him up, so wide it _hurt_ , until he was tearing, until he was split in two-_ _

__“And I’m,” Tim continued, not stopping the thoughts, simply speaking through them, “going to suck your cock.” He heard Kon groan, and slid down, grasping his cock with one hand and wrapping his mouth around the head. Kon pushed up, into him, and Tim let him, tongue pressing along the underside of his cock as he bobbed his head. He felt Kon shifting, trying to get to his nightstand without dislodging Tim from his position, and Tim almost enjoyed the struggle, trying to smile around his cock._ _

__His mouth was entirely full when he felt slick fingers pressing between his ass, against his hole. He pulled off to take a breath, stroking Kon and huffing out, “two,” and Kon listened, pressing two into him, all the way down to his last knuckle. Tim groaned, dropping his head again to take Kon back in, the salty taste of pre-cum morphing back into something coppery, metal-salt in his mouth._ _

__Tim closed his eyes, breathing through his nose, felt Kon scissor his fingers before curling them, pressing along nerves until- he shuddered, Kon finding his prostate with his practiced ease, and without thought let the edges of his teeth gently rub along the underside of Kon’s cock._ _

__His boyfriend hissed. “Tim, watch the teeth,” he whispered, and Tim swallowed him down until he was nudging the back of his throat, making him forget a second later it had ever happened. But Tim wanted it to happen again, liked the way Kon had shuddered at the press of his teeth. Something in him was on fire, growing hotter and hotter each time he swore he tasted blood, each time he _smelled_ it._ _

__Forget that there was none, that he should be concerned. Tim couldn’t seem to bring himself to care, drunk on the need to have Kon filling him, on the need to find release. Drunk on arousal and not giving a damn about anything else in that moment._ _

__He pulled off Kon’s cock when his boyfriend added a third finger, Tim pushing back onto his hand, one of his own stroking Kon. He sucked on his swollen lower lip, tonguing the split until he felt it give, until the taste of blood intensified, no longer in his mind._ _

__“Fuck me,” he gasped, felt Kon shudder. “Fuck. Get on your back _right now_.” Kon pulled out, Tim moving back just enough to let him slide down so he was laying on his back. Tim grinned, licking his lips as Kon stroked lube along his cock, and then he was climbing over him, straddling him. He reached behind him with one hand, grasping the base of Kon’s cock, easing himself down over it with a long, low groan. Beneath him, Kon exhaled, cursing, reaching out to grasp at Tim’s thighs, finally looking up at him, at the way his face fell in absolute bliss._ _

__As the blood on his mouth._ _

__“Tim,” he whispered, concerned, and Tim ignored him, lifting himself, driving back down, _hard_ , nothing like the subtle rhythm he liked to start with. Kon groaned, couldn’t help but buck up to meet the movement, but squeezed Tim’s thighs still. “Tim, you’re _bleeding_.”_ _

__“Good,” Tim breathed, lifted himself up again, gasping with each drive into his body. He felt Kon try to push him back, as if to guide him off, and he shook his head. He ran his hands along his chest, fingers toying with the tape that held the bandage to his chest. “Nnngh,” he whimpered, “don’t-stop.”_ _

__“But-“_ _

__“ _Don’t_.” Tim gave a cry, Kon’s cock brushing along his prostate, and dug his fingers under the tape on his chest, tearing it off, the bandage falling away. Beneath him, Kon had tipped his head back, back arching as he tried to meet Tim thrust for thrust._ _

__Tim pressed his fingers along the cut, hissing when it _hurt_ , when the came back wet. He grinned, tipping his head back and reaching up with his other hand, covering his bleeding mouth as his cries grew louder, as if trying to cut off his breath. His fingers continued to press against his cut, until he felt a droplet rolling down his stomach, following the curves of his muscles- then another. He dragged his palm along the wound, smearing red along his chest, as he pulled his hand away from his mouth, his chin smeared as well._ _

__Tim was drowning in it, felt like the air was thick, hot, _wet_. Like his head was thrust right up inside his own body, he was inhaling the scents of organs and blood, feeling the slick hard poke of bone. Each thrust justled him, left him gasping, left him feeling high. He threw his arms out, head still tipped back, as if he were in costume, as if he were extending the wings of his suit and _soaring_ across Gotham._ _

__He swore there was flesh growing, webbing between his arms and torso. He swore he felt the bones of his ribs unhinging._ _

__The hands on his hips tightened, Kon finally pulling himself together enough to get a look at Tim, at those glossy eyes, the blood smeared mouth and chest. He pushed himself up, wrapping an arm around Tim’s waist, trying to stop his movement. “ _Tim_ ,” he hissed, “fuck, you’re bleeding.”_ _

__Tim didn’t say anything, only whined when the rhythm was broken. His cock was aching, leaking on his stomach, flushed as his cheeks. He was _close_ , always got so close with just Kon inside him. He wanted it, needed it- would have his release if he had to gnaw himself in two._ _

__Tim wrapped his arms around Kon’s shoulders, pressing against him, tipping them until they tumbled to the bed. Kon pulled out of him, and Tim simply rolled to his belly, lifting his hips. “C’mon,” he breathed, rubbing his chest against his sheets, leaving red smears behind. “ _C’mon Kon_.”_ _

__“Tim, you’re not okay,” he breathed, eyes wide, and Tim spread his legs, pushing himself up and staring back at him. His eyes were almost pupil-less._ _

__“Because you’re not _fucking me_ ,” he growled. There was blood between the seams of his teeth. Kon didn’t reach out to touch him, and Tim snarled, arching his back. When Kon finally did touch him, he was grabbing his hips, and flipping him over, onto his back. Tim whined, and Kon held him down as he tried to thrust up._ _

__“Tim, snap out of it.” Tim sucked on his lower lip, a fresh trickle of blood down his throat, and his cock twitched, his orgasm _right there_. He didn’t hear Kon. Or, he registered that he was speaking, but not what he was _saying_. He was writhing, he was on fire, and when Kon pulled his hands away, he never even noticed. Flustered, _too close_ , he shifted back into the pillows, spreading his thighs and reaching down, pressing two fingers into himself. His body was slick from Kon, and they fit inside easily. He hooked them, brushed his own prostate and gave a loud cry, mouth open, lips slack._ _

__He fucked himself as hard as he could, his hips aching as he spread his legs wider. His free hand was rubbing at his chest, running wet fingers over scars, painting them scarlet as if they were fresh. Then, when he was suffocating in the smell of it, of sex and blood and what he was sure was the scent of death’s favorite sin, he slid his hand down to his cock, grasping it, stroking._ _

__He had no rhythm, his hand jerky, so close he was sure he was _dying_. His heart was pounding in his ribs, against them, he could picture it skewered on them, pierced a thousand times by each bone splintered over and over again in his body. He could see himself utterly torn apart, behind his eyelids, could see himself _ravaged_ , and with a hoarse cry, he came to that- to his own dissection, the way pearly bone poked out through scarlet gore, the way he could see himself as _utterly broken_._ _

__He collapsed into the sheets, panting, dizzy after, his arms falling to his sides. Dimly, he was aware of light coming into the room, of someone saying his name. Somewhere out there, beyond his eyelids, there were hands and someone lifting him, and voices-_ _

__Tim fell into the blackness behind his eyes and they faded to nothing._ _

__*_ _

__When he next opened his eyes, he was still in his bed, settled on his back. But the room had changed- there was light, coming in from the open window. He shifted, felt a tug at his chest- a fresh bandaged. His head was pounding._ _

__“Wha,” he started, licking his lips. They were sore. Next to him, someone stirred, and suddenly Kon was sitting up- fully clothed, but looking the better part of hell._ _

__“Hey,” he whispered, reaching a hand out and stroking Tim’s hair back off his forehead. “Welcome back.”_ _

__Tim blinked, heard someone else shifting in the room, and followed Kon’s eyes as Jason appeared at the side of his bed, looking down at him. “You alive in there, Timmy?”_ _

__Tim nodded, slowly. “Head’s killing me,” he whispered, reaching up to press his palm to it. “What the hell...happened?” Jason and Kon glanced at each other, before the former robin sat down on the edge of the bed._ _

__“You uh, you were a little out of it for a bit, Tim. You remember anything?” Tim shook his head, slowly. “Well. Apparently you had some toxins in you. From when,” Jason stopped for a second, taking a breath to keep the seething hate from his voice, “from when the Joker kissed you. His lipstick was laced with a whole bunch of shit. A medley of fear toxins and some of Ivy’s shit. No shock there, since we all know Harley and Ivy are _friendly_.” Jason sighed. “Anyway. Looks like he tried to rip off Crane’s formula, only dulled it down.”_ _

__Tim furrowed his brow, closing his eyes for a second. He remembered the Joker kissing him, remembered being restrained on the table- that was all clear, but then nothing after they got back to the cave-_ _

__Then, for a second, he saw it. Saw it all. Saw himself tearing at the wound on his chest, rising Kon, smearing blood along his face. Felt himself curling his fingers into his body, riding his own hand to release. Saw it all with a red tinge over it, a sticky film._ _

__He groaned. “Fucking god.” Next to him, Kon flinched, looking guilty. When Tim opened his eyes and glanced at him, the guilt only grew worse. “I know what Ivy’s shit feels like tho. We’ve all dealt with it.”_ _

__“Yeah well, this wasn’t the norm. Not according to Bruce.” Jason rubbed his hands along his own thighs. “Computer analysis tells him it doesn’t work as an aphrodesiac. But it’s _triggered by,” he stopped, glancing between the two, then finishing, “well, by arousal.”__ _

___Kon looked away, and Jason sighed, reaching out, patting Tim’s arm._ _ _

___“And we’ve explained this to you boyfriend here, over and over again. That you weren’t under any influence when you guys...started...” Jason sighed, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. Tim had never seen him skirt around _anything_ sex related like this. “It’s too early for this. Look, whenever you two started getting down and dirty, you were totally in control, Tim. Might’ve felt a little strange, but if you were turned on, it wasn’t the drugs. That just kick started their effects.” He glanced back up, this time staring right at Kon. “So please, for all our sanities, tell your boyfriend he didn’t take advantage of you and that we all still rather enjoy his company. Because he has been nothing but a ball of self loathing for hours.”_ _ _

___Jason stood up at that, walking around the bed and towards the door, as if leaving them alone would _force_ them to talk. Tim turned back to Kon, reaching up and brushing the back of his hand along his chest. “You hear him?”_ _ _

___“Yeah,” Kon mumbled, reaching up and taking Tim’s hand, keeping it pressed against him. “But-“_ _ _

___“No _buts_. You had no idea what was wrong with me. Hell, _I_ didn’t know, either. No one did. You can’t blame yourself for taking me up on the offer.” He smiled, despite his sore mouth, and Kon couldn’t help but smile back, squeezing his hand. “Were we switched, I would’ve jumped your bones, doesn’t matter what had happened. I wouldn’t have known.”_ _ _

___Kon gave him a gentle nod. “Okay,” he whispered, then, adding, “But we are never having sex again.”_ _ _

___“Never say never,” Tim chided, and Kon rolled his eyes._ _ _

___“Never after patrol.” Tim pouted, easy to do with his swollen lip, and Kon sighed. “Okay, well, never after you take a beating.” Tim continued to pout, and Kon started laughing. “Jesus Tim. Well, we’re at least not having sex _today_.”_ _ _

___“Fair enough.”_ _ _

___The two smiled, before someone was clearing their throat, and they both looked at the doorway. Bruce was standing there, watching the two, and Tim felt his cheeks tinging pink. He was sure Kon was blushing twice as hard._ _ _

___“Good to see you’re awake.” Tim forced a smile, watched as Bruce walked over, stopping to reach out and press his hand to the back of Kon’s neck, giving a gentle squeeze. Nonthreatening, affectionate. Tim felt his pulse calming. “We’re going to have to...talk about it.”_ _ _

___“Yeah, I know,” Tim whispered, sitting up slowly, leaning back into the pillows._ _ _

___“Just you and I,” Bruce added, “the rest of the family doesn’t need to hear all the details.” Tim smiled, thankful for the little sliver of privacy he’d get. “But they know enough.”_ _ _

___“Of course. Sounds like Jason knew everything.” Sat on the edge of the bed, glancing at Kon._ _ _

___“Well, he’s the one Kon went to. He’s the one that carried you into _my_ room covered in blood. So. Yes, he does.” Tim blushed, didn’t want to think about what _else_ he had been covered in. It was stark in his mind now, every hallucinations, every spark of pleasure- and the orgasm that had ripped through him at the end, to images of his own mutilated body. “We don’t have to do this now.”_ _ _

___“Yeah, can we not?” Tim licked his lips. “I think I’d just...I think I’d like to just lay down for a little bit. I promise, before patrol tonight.”_ _ _

___“You’re sidelined for the night.” Tim frowned._ _ _

___“I’m _fine_.”_ _ _

___“Not up for discussion, Tim. Not tonight. I want to make sure this is flushed from your system.” He patted his leg, before standing up. “Get some rest. We’re doing full bloodwork later, too.”_ _ _

___“Oh, joy.” Tim sighed, and Bruce reached out, squeezing Kon’s shoulder, before leaving the two, closing the door behind him. Tim slid back down, until he was on his back, heaving a sigh. Next to him, Kon stretched out on the bed, and Tim waited all of one breath before rolling onto his side, curling up against him and nuzzling into his chest. “If I’m sidelined,” he whispered, “I’m keeping you here too.”_ _ _

___“Fine by me.” Kon wrapped his arms around him, stroking his spine. “Don’t scare me like that again, okay?” Tim laughed, moving up to press his face into the crook of Kon’s neck._ _ _

___“I’ll try. I guess I won’t make it a point to make out with the Joker.” Kon rolled his eyes, even as Tim chuckled. “Trying to be funny here.”_ _ _

___“And failing.” Kon squeezed him. “Go back to sleep, okay? I’m staying right here.”_ _ _

___“Well good,” Tim whispered, closing his eyes. “Because I wouldn’t let you leave anyway.”_ _ _

___The two shifted, slightly, Tim dropping back to Kon’s chest, enjoying the steady rhythm of his heart, within his ribs. Sweet, melodic, enough to lull him. He kept his eyes closed, drifting down, back into himself._ _ _

___And for a brief second, he saw it all again. Not vividly, not like when he had had Kon inside him and his body had surged the drug cocktail on. No, but he could see himself, see himself split open wide, left for dead, someone’s sick fetish toy. And instead of chasing the vision away, he simply let it come, wash over him, a bad acid trip, a glimpse at a self he would never actually _see_._ _ _

___There was something fascinating about the utter morbidity of it. There was something that Tim didn’t entirely hate, even if he wouldn’t admit it._ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> *whispers quietly* but dark!Tim...


End file.
